“He’s Viper,” Evie explained.
“Well, that’s none of my business, is it?” Beth said, picking up her drink with a trembling hand.
“To answer your question, if Beth was in trouble, we were going to be here to help,” Evie answered Viper’s question and ignored Beth’s.
“Who the fuck are you?” a snide voice asked.
“Evie,” she answered in her toughest voice.
“You’re the bitch who left Beth high and dry! Damn, girl, you got balls to stand there after you fucked her man then watched her man fuck these other bitches.”
The other club was beginning to look at The Last Riders’ members with dawning respect.
“How’d you manage that, man? My bitch would cut my balls off in my sleep if I touched another bitch.”
Shade didn’t doubt the biker’s words.
“We did it to protect her. We had a brother who was a crazy fuck, and the only way we could protect her was to put space between us,” Razer answered.
“Yeah, was the hand that was playing with that girl’s titty imaginary? Any one of these fucks do that to one of my bitches, I’m gonna cut his hand off.” The bitch looked mean enough to do it, too.
Evie tried to make up some lost ground. She was losing to the biker bitches, and she was getting more and more pissed off.
“No, it wasn’t imaginary. Razer had to prove she meant nothing to him. Memphis had already tried to kill her twice. We had to make him believe he was in the clear after Bedford was arrested, or he would never have made a clear move against us. We had to have proof he betrayed the club. We couldn’t take someone outside the club’s word as proof without evidence,” Evie explained in front of everyone. Talking club business in front of others was breaking a rule, but they owed Beth an explanation, and she hadn’t given them the opportunity. Truthfully, no one really blamed her, though.
“So, instead, you betrayed Beth. She’s not club, so she didn’t matter,” the bitch threw the explanation back in Evie’s face.
“She matters.” That time, it was Razer who spoke.
“Not enough,” another bitch gave her unwanted opinion. “But I have a question I need answered.” Turning to Beth, she asked, “The one with all the tats, he do anything to hurt you? Because my fingers are dying to see how far down those tats go.”
Shade just stood there, ignoring the woman while keeping his expression bland. He didn’t want that crazy-looking bitch anywhere near his dick.
He was startled at Beth’s defense of him.
“No, he is the best of the bunch. Never saw him laying a hand on the women. Never drunk, didn’t see him at the parties. I have no problem with Shade.”
Shade’s eyes narrowed on Beth when she gave him a saccharine smile. She had told him she would pay him back for stopping her from leaving the house that day. It had taken a while, but she had gotten her revenge.
The Last Riders’ mouths dropped open. Even though they knew she was throwing Shade under the bus, they could tell she believed what she had said.
Natasha couldn’t prevent the laughter bubbling from her throat, and the other women from the club started laughing, too. “Are you serious? He’s the wor—”
“Shut up,” Shade said, his tone promising retribution if one woman spoke another word.
“Damn, you had to go and blow it, telling her to shut up. Don’t let him talk to you that way, bitch. Still, if you fuck as good as you look, I could always tape your mouth shut.” If anyone was going to be taped, it would be her.
Shade was about to break his silence and tell her she couldn’t handle the way he liked to fuck. Her ass would be bright red when he finished with her.
“You aren’t going to be touching nothing of his, bitch. Get on the back of my bike; we are leaving!” a biker behind Ace yelled.
“I’m not going anywhere with you, Joker. We’re going to Beth’s house after we get done here. Sex Piston is going to cut her hair.”
Shade studied the bitches at the table, easily guessing which one was named Sex Piston.
“No, she’s not,” Razer and Beth spoke at the same time.
Throwing a dirty look at Razer, she told her friends, “I was going to make an appointment next week, remember?”
“I’m going to save you the trip,” Sex Piston said, slamming her drink down on the table, which caused what little was left to slosh over the side of the glass.
“She’s going home with me. You’re not touching her hair,” Razer warned.
“I’m not going home with you,” Beth argued.
“Yes, you are,” Razer said between gritted teeth.
“No, I am not.”
“Beth is not going anywhere with you.” The crazy-looking one put her arm across the back of Beth’s chair while the rest of the biker bitches also scooted their chairs closer to Beth.
“Back off,” Evie cautioned.
“Listen to the bitch,” the crazy bitch taunted the men.
“I was talking to you,” Evie said, stepping closer to the woman who was practically sitting on Beth’s lap.